Writer’s response Saturday

Picture note: Took this in Amsterdam over the winter break.


Why do you write? What drives you, motivates you, and inspires you to do it? As many of you know, it’s not an easy thing to do. You pour countless hours into something, that is essentially the summation of you as a person. For what? 

Feel free to respond in the comments, in a DM, or whatever you find easiest. Maybe just think about it. No real structure here. I’ve found my answer to the question usually reaffirms my belief in what I’m doing:

I’ve found myself thinking about this a lot recently, especially with the new school and volunteer load. For those who I don’t personally know, I work a lot with big brothers/big sisters and a hospice/palliative program through the Mercy hospital systems. I’d being lying if I said those experiences didn’t influence my writing.

I think more than anything, though, I write for myself. It helps me create a different world, a different body, that I can escape to. This is weird, too, because I’m generally a horror writer. You wouldn’t generally consider my characters escapist, because terrible things happen to them! I think it’s a cathartic release though, it helps me return once I’m done. If it were all sunshine, I think when I returned to being me, it would be too hard. It’d make some of my issues more salient, make the anxiety/depression/whatever-it-may-be hit harder.

I think as authors, writers, and artists, we create to escape. By doing so, we often provide others with a way to escape, but there’s a difference in the level of escape. I hope a person reading my work would find entertainment and be able to relate in some way to my characters, but for me, I become the character in the scene. I very deliberately put myself in that situation, I feel what they feel, emotionally if not physically. A lot of times this has been painful. After particularly disturbing scenes, I’ve myself hating what I’ve just done as a certain character. A good example of this would be Ben from chapter 10 in the novel I’m writing, he is a disgusting piece of human refuse. But I still had to put myself in his shoes. I felt tainted for days, disgusted with what I did. Thank god that chapter was from the point of view of the victim, so I inherently related to her feelings more than Ben’s, but it’s also a strange thing to be literally hate yourself. It’s like there are more than one you, and the other you is just terrible, so you murder the other you. Writing characters can be weird like that, they cause emotions that seem unnatural upon reflection.

But I digress, the reason I write is to become something more than myself. To create something that might last, even if nobody reads it, even if nobody likes it, even if people think it’s sick. It’s me, and that matters, no matter what anyone else might think.

One thought on “Writer’s response Saturday

  1. I write to remember and to process information. My writing is only for my eyes and is usually an internal dialog with myself. I call these writings “Dear Friend” letters, and they act as a narrative with myself on how I feel about certain events going on in my life. I began writing these journal entries as a method to come to terms with my sexuality in high school, but the letters seemed to become obsolete as I started to come out to people. My Dearest Friend and Loyal Confidant turned into a friend I hadnt talked to in years, until I got to college. In college, I started to write to my old friend again about the events of the day, trying to piece together the events and unravel what was hard, frustrating, or unusual about the encounters I had with people or my personal progress towards goals I was aiming for. Now, the letters have been used more often – writing about happier things going on in my life now- to fill my Old Friend in on the events of my life.

    Writing is unique. It is an art form all its own. I do not claim to be an artist, but a performer. I want to show the world that I am more than just a lifeless corpse walking around to fulfill the norms – get an education, a job, get married, have a kid, raise said kid, get a promotion, retire, die. No, I want to be more exciting. We are gifted with a unique circumstance of knowing that our time is limited. I am going to make the best of it by waltzing, singing, blitzing, and crawling my way through it in the most dramatic and curious ways I possibly can. My writing is my way of grounding myself so I can maximize my ride.

    The prompt here also questions our motivations to perform our art. I want to speak to my musical art. I do not sing to express how I feel. I do not sing to impress other people around me. Often times, people get annoyed that I chose that moment to sing when I have other -usually more boring- things to do. I sing so that I can think and understand how I really feel at the time. The voice is a weapon that tricks, lies, mocks, and rips at people when used as such, but it can also be a tool used to bring people together, lift peoples broken hearts, and express words of love and tenderness that could only be thoughts without a voice. My singing has a way of telling me the truth. When I choose a song, I dont think about the context. I just sing. In singing, I can tell if I’m happy or sad by the tempo and tune of each pitch. The swinging tempos and odd harmonics tell me if Im joyful or contemplative. The context of the song tells me what is happening to make me feel the way that I do. This is my art, but I do this for me. People around me just get a chance to listen to me hum a tune when in reality, they are hearing the sound of my being.

    I really love all of the art -in all its fashion- on this page! Keep the good work going, Bluebeard! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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